CLEVELAND -- Everywhere, there were stories. That’s what happens when you’re on a 500-mile road trip with more than 100 family members and friends.

“How do I feel?” Jim Thome’s big brother Chuck said, repeating a popular question about the Saturday dedication of an eight-foot bronze statue of Jim at Progressive Field, home of the Cleveland Indians.

“Well, it’s like I told that USA Today reporter (in 1995) when Jimmy hit a home run in the World Series against Atlanta. ‘How do you feel about your brother hitting a homer in the World Series?’ I said, ‘You know what it’s like to have sex? Better than that.’ ”

The black party bus that carried some of the entourage from Peoria to Cleveland on Friday is adorned on each rear side panel with a large color photo of Thome. One is scripted with the words, “Making Peoria Proud!” The other simply says, “Congratulations Jim!”

Then there’s the beautiful photo on the back of the bus, showing Jim’s late mother, Joyce, in full smile with the words: “That’s my son!”

The Thome family, as might be expected, was here in force: Jim’s wife, Andrea, and their kids, Lila and Landon; Jim’s brothers, Chuck and Randy, and their wives, Jada and Teri; his sisters, Lori Larson and Jenny Ellis, and their husbands, Frank and Johnny. Jimmy’s nieces and nephews were everywhere.

And, of course, there was Papa Chuck, the 79-year-old king of the clan and proud planner of the party.

The old man sat at breakfast Saturday morning, greeting the Peorians coming and going from the restaurant, making and taking phone calls, telling new stories and re-telling old ones and wondering every few minutes how he might hold his emotions together during the ceremonies later in the day.

Few men anywhere can say they’re the father of a major league baseball player. Fewer still can call their kid a real star. The ones who get to see a statue erected of that son … well, the membership in that club has to be pretty darned small.

“Mind-boggling,” Chuck said. “To a dad, it really is mind-boggling.”

Chuck looked around at the friends and family chowing down. Some had been with him on the party bus. Most, though, had driven here on their own to be a part of this weekend.

“To think so many blue-collar people, who have to work hard to afford things … for them to come all the way here for Jim, that’s really something,” Chuck said.

Matt Legaspi was one of those guys. He’s Jim’s best friend, all the way back to their freshman year as teammates at Limestone High School.

“It was important for me to see it with my own eyes,” Legaspi said. “Got to see it. I mean, my mom always said she wished she’d gotten a picture of Jim in his underwear when he was sleeping on my couch; she could’ve used it to blackmail him all these years. I remember when the guy was crawling out of his car through the passenger side because the driver’s side door didn’t work and had plastic on the window.”

Yes, there were stories.

Jim’s brothers used to draw a strike zone on the outer wall of the family garage. One would bat, and the other would fire fastballs and curves into the square. They showed no mercy to Jimmy, who at the time was 5 years old and more than 10 years younger than both of them.

Jimmy batted from the right side when he first picked up a bat. Randy didn’t like what he saw there and turned his little brother around, convincing him to bat lefty. “I told him, ‘You’re closer to first base.’ Plus, there weren’t that many left-handed power hitters back then. I thought it might give him an advantage.”

The Peoria travelers weren’t the only ones telling stories.

Charlie Manuel was Jimmy’s mentor in the Indians’ minor league system and later his manager with the Philadelphia Phillies. Manuel remembered a game in Chicago, against the White Sox, when Thome was flattened by a fastball, high and tight.

“ His dad was in the stands, and he came running down, screaming, saying a few words I ain’t gonna say here,” Manuel said, laughing. “But at the same time, he’s hollering, ‘Get him, Jimmy! Get him!’ And Jimmy proceeded to hit the next ball about 450 feet to right field. Chuck’s up there, going, ‘Way to hit the ball, Jimmy!’ ”

During the dedication ceremony, Indians president Mark Shapiro praised Thome’s character and compassion, singling out the Peoria native’s knack for treating everyone with dignity. Indeed, around the ballpark over the past two days, I encountered several stadium workers — security people, ushers, food servers — who had stories about Thome calling them by name, years after he had left the Indians.

The stories were remarkable because they were so unremarkable. They simply conveyed small, but sincere, moments of kindness that made lasting impressions on everyday people.

“Jim never forgets,” Peoria businessman Frank Abdnour said. “It’s little things like that make you a special person.”

Beyond the center-field wall at Progressive Field is a monument garden known as Heritage Park. It has 17 plaques of former Indians greats, plus stones commemorating memorable moments in franchise history. The statue of Jim Thome stands atop a wide, curved stairway above the monuments.

During the unveiling and dedication ceremony, the Thome family was seated in front of the podium, next to the statue. But when Thome looked up from that podium, he could see the line of Peoria friends, perched along a concrete railing: High school friends and teammates, the superintendent of his grade school, hunting pals, guys who own and operate his favorite hangouts in the Peoria area, coaches, cops, factory workers, retirees, their families …

Quite the road trip for quite a man.

Randy’s son Brandon sat there and viewed the scene with a smile, thinking to a day when his Uncle Jimmy will be bronzed again, on a plaque in the Baseball Hall of Fame.

“Hopefully,” Brandon said, "the next road trip is to Cooperstown.”

KIRK WESSLER is Journal Star executive sports editor/columnist. He can be reached at kwessler@pjstar.com, or 686-3216. Read his Captain’s Blog at blogs.pjstar.com/wessler/. Follow him on Twitter @KirkWessler.